Almost to Zed
by Denaliyasha
Summary: Z was for zed, because he thought this was the end, without realizing that it was just beginning. A set of 26 BB shorts, one for each letter of the alphabet. Now complete, in 27 -long story- parts.
1. A

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, but I do own my own ideas and words.

A/N: I'm doing it again. I think. If enough people care, this will become another one of my 26 drabbles in the alphabet thing. That is, if we ever get new episodes... oh well. I can rewatch if needed.

**Almost**

She heard his, "Thanks for the gum," but didn't register it until she ran her tongue her teeth looking for it and realized it it was missing.

The revelation made her pause. What had she been doing?

Ok, so Booth was good-looking, both powerful and kind (an unfortunately rare combination) with a big heart and a soft spot for kids. Sure, so he was an incredibly attractive man who exuded sex and made her normally glacial control crack and melt, but still.

She'd intended it to be a peck on the lips, held until she'd counted to five very slowly in her head, and instead it turned into something completely different.

God lord, but the man could kiss. She'd LIVED with men who couldn't affect her that way.

And then he'd taken her gum.

It was out of hand. She was willing to admit, because she was generally pretty honest with herself (when she understood herself), that she'd wondered what it would be like to kiss Booth. Now that she knew, there was no point in doing it again. It was irrational, illogical, and she would just put it out of her head. She might have managed to convince herself, except for a little voice in the back of her head that reminded her...

She'd almost asked for her gum back.


	2. B

Disclaimer: See first chapter.

A/N: Two things. First: I changed the title. I realized I couldn't find a way to make Zoom work, sorry. Second: A lot of you added this to story alert. Nice of you, and all, but maybe a few of you could review so I know what you want, whether you liked it or hated it, and that sort of thing? I'll be posting the next word at the bottom of the chapter. I have ideas for some, but if you think you've got a great idea, leave it in a review, ok?

That said, this started out as angst and then I got this idea in my head and it's all Hodgin's fault that this turned out

**Blameless**

"Ok, before you say anything, it was totally not my fault."

Angela looked skeptically across her Angelator at Hodgins. "_That's_ an auspicious beginning."

"I love it when you use words like that." He grinned at her, then remembered why he was there. "Right. So it wasn't my fault that this security tape just sort of... happened to fall into my hands." He passed her a package. "Watch this when you get home."

"Ooh, spy stuff." She smiled good naturedly at his bouncing excitement. "Do I need to burn it when I'm through?"

"No. Just watch it."

"Ok." She put on her desk. "It doesn't have to do with a case, does it?"

"No, no." He was practically hopping from one foot to another in an effort to conceal his glee. "Just something I thought you should see. Consider it a... Christmas gift. Or something. Something you've been wanting to see for a while."

"Anything I should look for?"

"Just... count the steamboats. Please."

"Steamboats? What exactly..."

But he was already on his way out of the room, calling, "It isn't my fault, remember!"

A/N: Next word is Creation.


	3. C

Disclaimer: See first chapter.

A/N: Ok, so here's the deal. I have all the words, ideas for most of them, but if you give me a great idea, I might very well change it. Like for this one. Several people thought C could be about what Angela becomes when she sees the tape. I was thinking more along the lines of Booth asking stupid questions about Frankenstein, but hey! This worked! Obviously, this set has more of a running plot line than my last foray into alphabetic drabbles, but that could change at any moment.

**Creation**

"Hodgins!"

Temperance Brennan's voice echoed down the long hallway of the Jeffersonian, stopping the scientist in his tracks.

"Yes?" He turned around with an overly innocent look on his face.

"You've created a monster." The slender anthropologist pinned him with a glare. "Angela keeps chasing me around."

"I'm not sure what you're talking about."

"WITH MISTLETOE."

"Oh. That." He cringed. "That isn't my fault."

"Of course it is. She told me you gave her the tape." Brennan tapped her foot ominously.

"Traitor!"

"We were friends before you started dating. I hold seniority until you actually manage to tie the knot."

"Is that one of those mystical female things?" He held up a hand to forestall the inevitable "I don't know what that means." "Nevermind."

"Hodgins, she won't leave me alone. Says she's just waiting for Booth to decide there's a case."

"Who's just waiting for Booth to decide there's a case?"

"Booth!" Hodgins immediately turned his attention to the one he perceived as his savior. "How're you? Got any bugs for me?"

"No..." He looked at a desperate Hodgins, a furious Brennan, and asked the question he had a feeling he'd regret. "What's going on?"

"Hodgins got the security tape."

"THE security tape?"

"The kiss," Hodgins added helpfully, then quailed under two intense glares.

Booth turned his attention back to his partner. "And what did he do with it?"

Brennan adopted a pained look and answered, "Gave it to Angela." At Booth's horrified look, she continued, "So now she's following me around with mistletoe, waiting for you to show up."

Booth turned, slowly, to face the squint, his face an unreadable mask that Brennan imagined had once stood him in good stead as a soldier.

"Hodgins."

"Yes?"

"Where's Angela?"

"Playing with the Angelator." He gave up the love of his life without hesitation.

A/N: The next word is Drop.


	4. D

Disclaimer: See first chapter.

A/N: You guys had a much different reaction to Booth's last line than I thought. Instead of he wants to kill her, think more along the lines of what she was trying to get Brennan to do and what it means that Booth is now in the building. Anyhow, that will be continued NEXT chapter. Sorry. This is sometime between the kiss and Creation. Don't worry, the E chapter is a direct continuation of Creation. Enjoy!

**Drop**

"People do not just 'drop dead.'"

"Of course they do!" Booth grinned down at his partner, ignoring the awkward twinge that had been present since that incredibly odd mistletoe moment. "Heart attacks, that sort of thing."

"Booth, I meant that they don't call us when people drop dead of a heart attack. They don't call ME in when there's enough left of the body to tell that he just dropped dead. So no, in our cases, people do not just drop dead."

"God, Bones, I was kidding!" He rolled his eyes. "I have no idea how he died. That's why we called Cam. I also have no idea who he is. That's why I called you!"

Brennan stopped walking across the Washington Mall towards the badly decomposed body that someone had dumped there. "Booth, I might not know much about social interaction, but I do know that it isn't very tactful to tell a woman you called her second."

He smothered a smile at her indignant tone. "Of course it isn't. But I actually called you first. My boss called Cam."

"Thank you." She resumed walking. "I think."

"Yes, that was a compliment." He paced easily along side her. "How's your brother's girlfriend?"

"She's as well as could be expected, I suppose. Worried about her daughter, worried about Russ, trying to keep her life together in difficult circumstances."

"Let me know if I can do anything to help."

"You did, already." She froze and clapped her hand over her mouth. "I didn't say that."

"How? How did I help?"

"Booth..."

"I'm not going to let up until you tell me." He grinned. "And I can be patient."

Brennan sighed. "I traded a favor to get the use of the trailer for Christmas."

"And how was I involved?"

"The favor was... Ihadtokissyou."

He didn't say anything for a minute. Then, "So that steamboat thing?"

"She said it had to be five."

"I see." There was more silence.

"Booth... I didn't mean that the only reason I kissed you was because of the deal."

"It wasn't?" His mouth twitched.

"I mean, I wouldn't have otherwise, but it wasn't because... oh, you know what I mean."

"Yes, Bones, I do." He knew he should be insulted, but it was oddly endearing to watch her fumble, and since he otherwise wouldn't have gotten to kiss her... "Let's go see this guy who dropped dead, hmm?"

A/N: Next word is Excuses.


	5. E

Disclaimer: See first chapter.

A/N: So after Creation, most of you seemed to think that Booth wanted to kill Angela. That wasn't my intention. This is supposed to immediately follow Creation, and I hope it clears up what I was doing with that last line.

**Excuses**

As Hodgins hurried away to do Booth's bidding, Brennan turned to him in shock.

"He just went to tell Angela you're here."

"And?" His expression was way too innocent.

"Now she'll be chasing _both_ of us around with mistletoe!"

All she got in return for her exasperated confusion was a smug smile and an "Exactly."

Her eyes narrowed. "That was your point?"

"Of course." He grinned at her. "Did you think I was going to kill her or something?"

"No, of course not. I was just questioning your judgment in causing Angela to run around after you wherever you go, attempting to dangle mistletoe above your head."

"It seemed like a good idea at the time." He shrugged and watch her pick through his words to his meaning.

"You want to kiss me again?" She sounded aghast, appalled, and just a little worried.

"Well, I don't NOT want to kiss you again." He was going to be honest about this if she killed him.

"I see." Her tone was unreadable.

"Um, Bones?"

"Yes?"

"Would you hit me if I said I was glad you didn't have a gun right now?"

"Yes."

"Ok, then." He put his hands in his pockets. "So, does this mean you don't want to kiss me again?"

"Yes! I mean, no... I mean... God, Booth, you're confusing."

He smiled cheekily at her and started off in the directions Hodgins had gone. "Excuses, excuses."

A/N: Next word is Frown.


	6. F

Disclaimer: See first chapter.

A/N: Nice of all of you to review, thanks a bunch, and I love knowing you like this. Here's the next part.

**Frown**

"Booth!" Angela smiled up at the FBI agent who'd just sneaked into the room. "You're acting like Hodgins. What's with the stealth mode?"

His face was a picture of innocence that didn't fool her for a minute. "Stealth? What do you mean?"

"Booth, you just slid around the door as though you needed to be ready to leave again any second. Add to that the fact that you're now standing there looking like an altar boy, which I happen to know you are not, and I can be pretty sure you're trying to hide from something." She paused. "Or some_one_. What did you do to her this time?"

He dropped all pretense. "Confused her. Ticked her off a little. Nothing big."

"Then why the hiding?"

"Well, ok, so maybe she might want to kill me."

Understanding dawned. "You teased her about the kiss, didn't you?"

"Yeah."

"And now you're taking cover, hoping she won't find you."

"Or that you'll be my human shield, yeah." He grinned winningly.

"Not gonna happen." She pointed at the door. "Go on, you'll have to stand on your own two feet and take that right hook sometime."

He hung his head dejectedly and walked slowly towards the door.

"Booth?"

He turned around, a comically hopeful look on his face. "Yes?"

"Why'd you tease her, when you know that legally her hands are deadly weapons?"

He shrugged with a rueful smile. "She's so damn cute when she frowns."

A/N: Next word is Grave.


	7. G

Disclaimer: See first chapter.

A/N: Hope you guys are still enjoying this. Let me know if you have ideas for the next words, because I'm still a little new to this whole running plot thing and so sometimes I scramble for a way to continue.

**Grave**

"Angela, do you happen to know where there's a nice, secluded stretch of forest?"

The artist looked up at her friend, glad Booth had left in time to avoid running into the anthropologist.

"What are you planning to do, kill him?"

"Just making sure I have a place I can bury the body if anything... unfortunate should happen."

Angela blinked a few times, then grinned. "Sweetie, are you making a joke?"

"I haven't decided." Brennan collapsed on a chair, for once dropping her normally good posture and slouching. "He is so... so..."

"Confusing?"

Brennan's head snapped up. "He was here."

"Er..." Angela was trying not to lie to her friend, but didn't really want to be the cause of a murder. "Yes."

"He came to use you as a shield, didn't he?"

"Uh, yeah." It was amazing how well these two knew each other. They thought they were so different, but when it came down to it, Booth and Brennan were on the same wavelength. It was a weird sort of combination of mind and personality: Booth gained insight and better reasoning skills and Brennan gained a sense of other people and a sense of fun (that didn't involve dead bodies or mass graves). "But he left. I don't know where he went."

"Angela, do you think I should kiss Booth again?" Brennan seemed not to notice that her question made her friend gape at her. "I mean, we've sort of established that neither of us _doesn't_ want to do that again, but... well, it's Booth."

"Sweetie, it's _Booth_. Gorgeous, sweet, protective, good with kids, your very own knight in shining FBI issue body armor. What do you think you should do?" When Brennan just stared at the wall, Angela sighed. "What do you _want_ to do?"

"I..."

A/N: Sorry for the cliffy, I couldn't figure out how to end it. Next word is Holmes.


	8. H

Disclaimer: See first chapter.

A/N: Sorry, you're going to have to wait another few days for the resolution to the cliffhanger. I had this one planned already, so here's another flashback in the Booth/Brennan saga. This is set right after they've started working together again. Jack is my invention. No touchy.

**Holmes**

"Hey, Jack." Booth slid into the seat across from his army buddy. "How've you been?"

"Just fine." The tall, dark-haired man gestured at the full beer that sat in the middle of the table. "I ordered you a drink."

"Thanks. I need it."

"Bad day at work?"

"You have NO idea." Booth took a large gulp of his drink, then settled more comfortably into his chair. "I'm back with that squint."

Jack, who'd been around during the first time Booth had worked with the genius anthropologist, winced in remembered sympathy. "Her again, huh? You never really told me what bothered you so much about her."

"Well, let's see." He started ticking off points on his fingers. "First, she has no sense of humor. I crack a joke to lighten the mood, and she says, 'I don't know what that means.' It gets old really fast. Second, she has no emotions. Except maybe anger."

"Well, maybe she's just good at hiding them. She does work with dead bodies all the time," Jack offered, tentatively.

"Nobody's that good." Booth dismissed the idea with a wave of his hand. "I wouldn't work with her except she's Sherlock fucking Holmes."

"What do you mean?"

"She can tell me from someone's bones what sports they played as a kid, how old they were when they broke whatever bones they broke, where they lived, how long they've been dead, and with her team can give me an exact picture of their face and a 3-D computer model of how they died."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah." Booth took another long swallow of beer. "It's amazing. And she really is the best. The only one this side of Canada with the expertise to do what she does."

"Sounds impressive... and boring. Let me guess, she looks like a librarian, all pasty and white from never leaving her lab."

Booth snorted. "I wish. No, she's really, really... hot." He frowned into his glass. "Wow, I thought I'd have to be drunker to admit that."

"Hot?" Jack grinned across the table at him. "Go on."

"Well, for one thing, she's a black-belt in some ungodly number of martial arts."

"She can take you down?"

"Yeah. Easily. It's slightly embarrassing, actually." The conversation trailed off then, until...

"So..." Jack tilted his head. "I like the way this woman sounds. Think she'd go out with me if I offered to be her Watson?"

Booth put his head down and laughed until his sides hurt.

A/N: Next word is Inefficient.


	9. I

Disclaimer: See first chapter.

A/N: I like keeping Bones in limbo, by the way. No pun intended.

**Inefficient**

"I..." Brennan's face was confused for a split second, then it cleared. "I need to think this through."

Angela groaned. "Honey..."

"No, I need to think about this. It's an important decision that needs careful consideration and I can't do that in such a short amount of time."

"The point isn't to think, sweetie, it's to go with your instinct." Angela leaned forward in her chair. "Like when you're skydiving. You don't think about what could happen if you hit the ground without a chute, you just jump. Or when you're listening to music in the lab and start dancing while waiting for results. Who cares if someone sees you?"

"Dancing is an inefficient use of time while waiting for results." Brennan frowned. "You can run other tests, catch up on paperwork..."

"Not the point." Angela waved a hand to dismiss the notion. "The point is that you can't think about it. You just... do it. Jump. Dance. Kiss the really hot guy who's been flirting with you for years."

"Years?" Brennan shook her head. "You're wrong."

"Honey, when was the last time I was wrong about something like this?" Angela grinned widely.

"Never..." The word came out reluctantly. "Maybe that's what Goodman was thinking when he told me to take a vacation to sleep with Booth."

"He said WHAT?"

Brennan smiled at her friends comical reaction. Angela had practically fallen off her chair, only saving her seat by gripping the edge tightly. "Well, that's not what he meant, I think. But that's how it came out."

"Well, he was right." Let it not be said that Angela couldn't recover her composure quickly. "You and Booth should take a vacation and just not leave your apartment."

"I'll think about it." Brennan stood.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

As she left, Angela slumped into her chair and muttered, "God, but the next few weeks are going to be interesting."

A/N: Next word is Jupiter.


	10. J

Disclaimer: See first chapter.

A/N: Hope you're enjoying this! Sorry if you feel like I'm not resolving this very quickly, but I'm trying to stretch a plot across 26 chapters. It's really annoyingly hard work!

**Jupiter**

Brennan sat down at her computer, reached for the mouse, and froze. There was a Word document open onscreen, with a note.

_Bones,_

_I'd say you should change your password (did you not remember that I guessed Jupiter?), but I would have been able to figure it out anyway so don't bother. I'm sorry I was teasing you earlier. We can do one of two things right now. We can pretend we're normal, like always, or we can talk. Up to you._

_Booth_

_PS. Since I know you'll change your password anyway, you might want to avoid things like Mercury, Persephone, and Russ. Just a thought._

Damn the man. He was too good at throwing her off balance. Not only had he guessed every password she'd ever thought of using, he was tossing this issue at her and leaving it to her to decide where she wanted to go.

That was supposed to be his specialty! He knew she sucked at emotions, the same way he knew her passwords. He just knew her too well for comfort.

But then, she thought, didn't she know him pretty well, too?

She knew that he saved people not just to balance the karmic scales for the people he killed in the army but because he had a deep sense of the injustice of the world and tried to right it whenever he could. She knew the look he got on his face when he was spacing out and was about to turn to Angela for the plain English version of a scientific speech. She could tell when he was really happy and when he was faking it to keep his son from worrying.

It was slightly scary to realize how well she knew him. It put a lot of weight on the "Kiss Booth Again" side of the scale, while there was startlingly little on the "Don't Kiss Booth Again" side.

Grabbing her coat, Brennan headed for the door. This required more thought than she could give it in the office.

A/N: Next word is Kinky. Minds out of the gutters, people, I don't write smut.


	11. K

Disclaimer: See first chapter.

A/N: Ok, here is the next little (and I do mean little) part of my story. Kinky is another one that breaks the plot-line. Oh, and I just realized that this is my 100th story! Yay me!

Someone mentioned that I shouldn't accuse you all of having dirty minds when I was the one using Kinky. Point. :D However, this one was inspired by Death in the Saddle, and the discussion of pony play.

**Kinky**

"I'm telling you, there are good kinds of sex and there are bad kinds of sex." Booth followed her down the hallways of the Jeffersonian. "This? This was bad."

"It's just a kind of ritual. Testing of pain thresholds." Brennan shrugged. "Native Americans have had rituals for centuries that caused great pain to their warriors to strengthen them for coming battles."

"Yeah. That's war. This is sex," Booth said flatly.

"Well, in many ways it's the same thing. These people wanted to be pushed to their limits so that they would know where that limit was. Only when you know your limits can you fully understand what you can do. It makes sense to me."

Booth stopped dead. "You mean, you..."

Brennan paused her steady pace. "Engage in S&M? No. There's more than one way to achieve the same ends. Some people choose sex."

"Bones, it's disturbing."

"Why do you keep bringing this up if you know we aren't going to agree?" She resumed walking.

"I don't know. Why do I?" He rolled his eyes behind her back.

"Don't roll your eyes at me, Booth. I have no idea why you keep bringing it up!"

Sometimes that woman was creepy in her insight. It was like she had eyes in the back of her head and a doorway into his brain. "Umm... ok, so can we just agree that this was kinky and move on?"

"Yes, there was a certain element of kinkiness to the kind of sex these people were interested in. Are you satisfied?" Her tone of voice, exasperated and pissed, warned him off the subject.

"Yes. Satisfied. One hundred percent." There was silence for a few moments, then... "Bones?"

"WHAT?" She whirled on him.

"Did you even notice the double implications of what you just made me say?"

A/N: Next word is Limbo.


	12. L

Disclaimer: See first chapter.

A/N: Sorry for the wait; school got ridiculously hectic for a few weeks there. I'll try to stay on top of this story, though. Yay for all of you who have reviewed. I really appreciate it, you guys. Thanks.

**Limbo**

The hardest part about working with Bones had always been seeing her as a person with feelings. It's not that he'd gone out of his way to see her as anything different, but from the moment they'd met he supposed he'd seen her as a sort of tool, one that went into limbo whenever it wasn't in use.

She didn't have friends, not outside the lab. She didn't go home every night to an apartment with a boyfriend and a TV or out to a club or a bar. She just sort of... stayed in the lab and did whatever she did until he needed her again.

When he'd realized she had a boyfriend living with her (a fact he'd had to drag out of her after a slip of the tongue made him wonder), it had shaken his view. When she'd demanded to be included in his cases in the field, the foundations had rocked a little further. When he'd read her books and they found her mother's body and she'd cried and dedicated her book to him, he'd realized he couldn't keep modifying his old picture of her. He needed a new one.

So he'd built it slowly, carefully, paying attention to details this time. And he'd realized that the woman he was seeing for the first time was a woman he was most definitely falling in love with, for all the same reasons that she drove him up the wall.

And so here he was, stuck in his own little limbo, waiting for her to find, read, and respond to the message he left on her computer.

Man, this sucked.

Waiting was not something he did well. Not for personal stuff, that is; he'd gotten good at patience when he was a sniper. But this total uncertainty was new and really, really annoying. He wasn't waiting for the right moment, he was waiting for her to decide if there was going to _be_a right moment.

So he filled out paperwork, played with a few rubber bands, read a National Geographic article Bones said was incredibly insightful, and waited.

He hated waiting.

A/N: Next word is Meaning.


	13. M

Disclaimer: See first chapter.

A/N: Ok, my Classics prof is the inspiration for this one. He was explaining the d.i.m in Greek tragedy, and this popped into my head. Thanks for all the reviews, and sorry again for the wait.

**Meaning**

Angela, on her way home, detoured to Booth's office reluctantly. Something about all those men in suits and the women with their hair pulled back _way_ too tightly made her artist's soul uncomfortable, but she'd seen Brennan leave the lab hours earlier than she normally would. Putting one and one together to get two, she figured Booth had something to do with it. Hence the visit.

She found him sitting at his desk, staring at the back of one of Brennan's books.

"Booth?" She dropped into one of the chairs and frowned. "Please tell me you haven't been doing that long."

"Hmm?" He blinked a few times, raising his head so that he could see her. He obviously had no clue what she'd just said.

"Sweetie, what are you doing?" Angela leaned forward. "You're staring at her picture instead of trying the real thing. Don't you think you could be out doing something about that?"

Booth sighed. "I left it up to her."

"What?"

"I'm leaving it up to her what we do."

"Oh, sweetie, that's the _worst_ thing you could do." She shook her head. "She's bad with emotions. She tries to pretend they don't exist. By leaving up to her, you make it possible for her to decide that _because_ she has feelings for you, she shouldn't do anything about them."

"Well, if I don't give her time to come to her own conclusion, she'll resent me for it later." His face took on a stubborn cast. "This is how it has to work."

"Fine, fine. I suppose you know her best." Angela sank back into the chair. "Um... Sweetie? What were you doing with her book?"

He laughed. "Searching for d.i.m."

"Dim?"

"Dee eye emm. Stands for deep inner meaning. I was looking for some hint of how she might react."

"Ah." She tilted her head to one side and studied him. "You're in love, aren't you?"

"Angela..."

"You don't have to tell me." She stood. "Just... tell her, alright? Don't let her brain get between your hearts."

A/N: Next word is Never.


	14. N

Disclaimer: See first chapter.

A/N: This I know this one is prolonging the agony, and all, but I'm trying to make one plot stretch into twenty six complete shorts, and it's difficult. Also, I don't mean to sound like I'm begging, but I'm getting a bunch of story alert notifications and not many reviews. If you read this or any chapter, I'd appreciate you taking the time to tell me what you thought or what you want to see happen. Thanks!

**Never**

Lord, she was never going to figure this out.

Somehow, he'd wrapped himself around her heart. She thought bitterly that _he_ seemed to be handling it just fine, then chastised herself. No, Booth was just as out of countenance as she was. He was just better at dealing with the feeling.

She was going absolutely insane.

She'd tried working on her next book to clear her head. She'd ended up writing love scenes and having to delete them. She'd tried reading. She kept imagining how he'd poke at her until she explained things "in plain English."

At this rate, she'd be ready for an institution in a week.

Didn't Angela once refer to marriage as an institution?

Oh lord, she was really going crazy.

The only thing to do seemed to be to sit down and make up her mind. Easier said than done.

On the pro-Booth side, he was incredibly good looking. He was kind, smarter than he let on, and he was, anthropologically speaking, a good partner. She was sure that they'd have a good time, and the sex would probably be great. And there was Parker: a child she could mother without having to become a mother, thereby dealing with some of her fears.

On the anti-Booth side (well, if she was honest, the anti-relationship-with-Booth side), they were coworkers. They had to work together no matter where their relationship ended up going. He got easily frustrated with the way she spoke. She constantly felt slightly stupid around him, because he was always reminding her that he spoke the language of pop culture and she didn't. Well, ok, so maybe it was retaliation for the science talk, but still. She didn't do it on purpose, and he did. There was also the fact that Booth was overprotective, potentially jealous, and refused to let her carry a gun.

Neither side really seemed to win.

The only question now, the only question that really mattered, then, was...

Did she love him?

A/N: I know, I'm evil. Next word is Overload.


	15. O

Disclaimer: See first chapter.

A/N: Again, sorry for delays. School is killing me, though the tests I thought I bombed, I didn't. Yay me.

**Overload**

Every single one of his senses had shut down temporarily. The sensory overload was too much, and somewhere in the back of his mind he was conscious of waiting for his system to reboot so he would actually be able to enjoy this.

And then another thought floated across his mind: dear lord, the woman could kiss.

As he started to become aware of his surroundings again, he realized her hands were still on his face, where she'd grabbed him to pull him to her level. His arms had, without his knowledge, slid around her waist and pulled her flush against his body. And they were currently fighting for non-existent gum.

It wasn't that he wanted to actually stop doing this any time soon, but they were outside his door where anyone could see them... and he had no clue what they were actually doing.

"Bones?" He managed to pull his mouth off hers long enough to suggest, "Can we go inside?"

She flushed an adorable shade of pink and released him, stuffing her hands into her pockets in a nervous move that revealed a little more of herself than he thought she was intending to.

When she'd slipped past him into the warmth of his home, he shut the door and turned to her with a carefully blank look on his face.

"Can I assume you've made a decision, then?" He couldn't quite keep the hopeful note out of his voice.

"Yes. I mean, I think so. I mean..."

"Ah ah!" He held up a hand to stop the babbling. "Stopping at yes."

The corner of her mouth twitched despite the obvious worry on her face. "Alright. You still..."

"Yes." He made sure he sounded sure of himself, even though he wasn't. It wasn't that he didn't want her here, kissing him and whatever, but it was just... "You're not going to change your mind in a few hours, are you?"

"No." She shifted from foot to foot. "I'm not. I promise. But..."

"No buts." He reached for her hands, and she let him take them. "And if you start to over-think, you'll come to me so I can stop you, right?"

"Alright, but Booth..."

"Shh." He gave her a mock glare and leaned down to kiss her. "Enough time for details later."

And her hands slid up his arms into his hair, and his senses went on the fritz again. Ah, overload.

A/N: Next word is Partner.


	16. P

Disclaimer: See first chapter.

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews. You guys are some of the best reviewers I've ever had. That said, school is nuts. I might not be able to update for a while.

**Partner**

It was a Saturday, and neither of them had to work (though she usually did work on weekends, and he was rather pleased with himself for keeping her out of the lab).

The day off meant they had time for Booth to push the conversation about labels. What were he to her, then? Boyfriend sounded childish. Lover didn't include the emotional connection.

It didn't really surprise either of them that the word they came up with was partner.

After she'd shown up at his home, kissed his socks off (his phrase, not hers), and realized that the morning after was nowhere near as awkward as they'd expected, they decided that they couldn't _not_ be partners.

It wasn't a work title for them anymore. It was a connection, the type of symbiosis most work partners could only pray for. He strengthened her and she bolstered him up and together they were definitely greater than either was alone.

That didn't mean they knew everything there was to know about each other. It wasn't until she woke up with his arms wrapped around her and his face in her neck that she learned he was a snuggler. It wasn't until he woke up to the smell of bacon that he learned she could cook. Cook very well, actually. She even was able to resist his distractions and keep the bacon from burning.

She waited till she'd transferred the crisp strips to a plate before dumping the pan in the sink and distracting _him_.

A/N: Next word is Quilt.


	17. Q

Disclaimer: See first chapter.

A/N: OMG. The Verdict. Good lord, but that was a brilliant Booth/Brennan episode. Seriously, people, he was willing to send her father to jail to keep her out of trouble (cause think about it, if they were too convincing, SHE might have ended up in prison). And while she was hugging her dad, she was looking at him. It's all about the Bones and Booth, people.

This is NOT in my timeline, and it's set after The Verdict in the Story, without real explicit spoilers (though it probably wouldn't make much sense if you haven't seen it). Sorry this took so long, but it's almost finals, so don't expect too much too quickly.

**Quilt**

Their relationship is an odd quilt of moments and lies and laughter and hope.

Moments when he realizes that no matter what she's doing, no matter what she thinks is right, he can't let her get hurt. Not to save her father, not to save him, not to save the world. Moments when she smiles at him and he suddenly forgets that he should be mad at her for what she made him do and that she really needs to stop being so damn self-sacrificing. Moments when he knows without a doubt that Sweets is right, there is definitely something more there, and he has to squelch the urge to ask the boy wonder how such an incredibly rational woman would handle something as irrational as love.

There are those not quite lies that she tells, because Temperance Brennan can't lie to save her life, so he has to do it for her. There are those lies that he tells himself every time she puts herself in danger or stands up for something regardless of the consequences, the lies about how he isn't in love with her and she isn't the most important thing in his life besides his son. The lies that Sweets tells to get them to keep coming to sessions that he swallows because he loves the time he gets to spend with her. The little, subtle lies he tells every time he steps back instead of kissing her, every time he lets her go when all he wants to do is hold on forever.

He loves that he's the one who can tease a laugh out of her when most people seem to think she's incapable of it. He loves that she can take something as non-funny as a body rolled up like a tire and find it the funniest thing in the world. He loves that something so simple can brighten her day, and that he was the one to give it to her. Her laughter is like a validation of everything he's ever done, and that should scare him but it doesn't.

Hope is a feeling you don't get too often in their line of work. She's used to dealing with people who have been dead for centuries, and he is usually exposed to people at their worst, but these days? These days he has hope for humanity. If someone as perfect and as beautiful as his Bones can sacrifice so much for her father without a thought for herself, yet still hurt for making him admit she could have committed murder, there was definitely hope for the human race. If someone with her sense of right and wrong and her rational mind could risk so much for an emotion, maybe she'd be open to the idea of risking something else for a different emotion. After risking prison for her father, maybe she could risk hurt for love...

Their relationship is an odd quilt of moments and lies and laughter and hope. It's a quilt that keeps him warm at night, a quilt he wraps himself in when she's at her most clinical to remind himself that she does care, she just isn't so good at showing it. It's a quilt that comforts him when he needs comfort and motivates him when he needs motivation. And so what if sometimes he thinks he sees a hole or two or if it gets a little frayed around the edges.

All he needs to fix it is a few more moments, a few more lies, a little more laughter, and a bit more hope.

A/N: The next word is rodeo.


	18. R

Disclaimer: See first chapter.

A/N: Sorry for the very long wait. I am dealing with some serious personal issues right now, and so while I still write, I don't always know WHAT to write. And my bipolar muse seems to have decided to come up with all sorts of In Plain Sight ideas. Yes, I know that's not yet a category on . It should be. Great show. Anyway, it will probably be a wait before the next one, and the one after that. I appreciate your patience.

This one fits in my established relationship time line. I am taking liberties with Booth's family history.

**Rodeo**

He turned when she laughed at him, and was glad he had. The view of a naked Bones covered only partially by a sheet was so amazing he almost forgot why he'd looked over in the first place.

"What?"

"The belt buckle." She pointed a lazy hand towards the pants he was in the process of fastening. "It's... interesting."

The buckle in question had a rearing horse and a date on it.

"I'll have you know my father won this buckle at a rodeo when I was two." His expression dared her to laugh again.

"I thought you said your dad was a pilot?"

"He was, but you can't fly a plane all the time. Until I was five, we were stationed all around the Midwest. He grew up on a farm, so he entered rodeos and stuff like that when he had the time." He looked down and patted the buckle affectionately. "This was the only time he actually won anything, and he gave it to me when I joined the army."

When she didn't respond, he glanced up at her. She was lying there, head propped up on hands, studying his face. Uncomfortable, he muttered, "What?"

"I just realized something amazing about our relationship."

"What?"

"Not only is the sex great," and they both grinned at that, "but you keep giving me back pieces of the childhood I never had and the bonds I never formed."

He shuffled his feet. "It's just a belt buckle, Bones."

"Hmm..." She reached out a hand and tugged on it, pulling him back to the bed. "Isn't there that song? That weird one that Hodgins was ranting about?"

"Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy?" Booth could only watch as she pulled at his pants.

"Yes, that one." She smiled wickedly up at him. "I've always been one for saving the animals..."

A/N: Next word will be squirrel.


	19. S

Disclaimer: See first chapter.

A/N: You guys are great, really. There are 230 reviews on this story! Yay! I'm hoping this will break 300. That's seriously great. And for the record, squirrels really do get massively nuts when on sugar binges. I have seen this myself. This one squirrel was playing chicken with a car, then tried to attack a raven. Friends don't let squirrels eat sugary cereal.

**Squirrel**

"You were attacked by _what_, now?" She stared at him, expressionless, arms crossed, a picture of a woman whose boyfriend was twenty minutes late for their date.

"A squirrel." He knew how ridiculous it sounded.

"A squirrel," she repeated. "An army trained sniper turned FBI agent brought down by a squirrel."

"I wouldn't say 'brought down,'" he muttered, shifting from foot to foot and trying not to let his discomfort show more than necessary. "It was more like... detained."

"Detained. At the risk of repeating myself, by a _squirrel_?" Her voice had gone up slightly in pitch, and he didn't know if it was amusement or annoyance. He wasn't sure which one he'd prefer.

"Look, Parker spilled some of his frosted cheerio things in the car the other day. And when I was loading stuff up," he gestured towards the picnic basket and blanket he'd brought with him, "a squirrel must have gotten into the car. Because I'm driving, and suddenly, there's a rodent running across the dashboard."

"Uh huh." Her tone had definitely shifted towards amusement now. He wasn't sure his pride could take it if she actually cracked a smile.

"So I had to pull over and spend half an hour trying to get this hyperactive squirrel out of my car. Which is why I am late for our date."

She stared at him, already having decided to believe him (because honestly, who could make up a sugar high rodent as an excuse?), and realized she could do one of two things: put him out of his embarrassed misery, or milk the moment for all it was worth.

As though sensing her dilemma, he held up a hand. "Before you decide to torment me forever, at least acknowledge that I didn't shoot it or in any way harm it." His face betrayed the fact that he wished he had. "Despite the fact that it deserved it. But then there would have been a repeat of the clown thing, and I'm supposed to be the sane one in this relationship."

That last part was the final straw. Brennan's whole body was shaking with laughter that she tried to suppress, and Booth could only glare as she leaned helplessly against the door frame.

A/N: Next word is tipsy.


	20. T

Disclaimer: See first chapter.

A/N: Holy cow. It has been AGES since I updated this. And the new season starts Wednesday! I'm incredibly excited. I'm hoping that the season will spark my inspiration, cause sorry people, but right now I've got... not so much in this. I've got ongoing personal stuff to deal with, and I'm going back to school this week, so it might be a while before the next one. Hopefully within two weeks, though. Please review!

Oh, and my new pet peeve: people who say deep _seeded_ instead of deep _seated_. The second has meaning, the first doesn't.

**Tipsy**

When Booth got tipsy, for whatever reason, he got incredibly affectionate.

She'd found this out when he was high off the medicine they'd been given that first Christmas they worked together, when they'd all been quarantined.

She'd seen it a few other times over the course of their partnership, like when they were doing vodka shots in his office in the middle of the night.

And now here he was, coming by her apartment after an evening out with "the guys," just this side of drunk (or just that side of sober; she couldn't quite tell).

It was the night of the week he usually spent at her place, and this time he found her sitting up in bed, reading the latest forensics journal, and immediately stretched out next to her, head in her lap. "Hi, Bones."

"Shoes, Booth." She watched as he struggled to kick off his shoes, brow slightly furrowed with the effort.

"There. Jeez, Bones, you're really a neat freak, aren't you?" The tone was incredibly playful, so she tried her best not to take offense. Besides, she'd learned that when Booth was inebriated, much of what he said was just to get a rise out of her.

"Yes, Booth. I'm a neat freak."

He stared up at her, then reached up to run a hand over her hair. "But you're _my_ neat freak." He smiled winningly at her, and she couldn't help but laugh.

"I guess so."

He reluctantly pulled himself into a sitting position next to her and wrapped his arm around her waist, his head going to her shoulder.

"You're going to have a headache in the morning, Booth."

"I know." He sighed, and she could feel it against her neck. "I love you, Bones."

"Does it count if you say it when you're drunk?" She wasn't sure if she should be exasperated, amused, or burst into tears.

"Yup. Cause I'm not actually drunk. And I feel it when I'm _not_... whatever it is that I am now. So it counts!"

"Alright, alright." She smiled, glad he couldn't see the blush rising to her cheeks. "I love you too, I suppose."

"You suppose?" He pulled away and mock glared at her.

"I suppose."

"I guess I have to convince you, then!" He made as though to tackle her to the bed, but, as his balance was impaired, missed and fell into her lap.

She started giggling, patting him gently on the shoulder. "Why don't we pick this up again when you're not tipsy?"

A/N: Next word is untrue.


	21. U

Disclaimer: See first chapter.

A/N: Okay, so my foray into Angela/Hodgins as it relates to the ongoing Booth/Brennan relationship. This word made me think of the phrase, "Lies, I tell you, all of it!" So that's where this came from. Hope you enjoy. You guys are so awesome, I got temporarily re-inspired.

**Untrue**

"Jack..."

"What?"

"Why did you do it?"

"I didn't! It's all lies!"

Angela stared at her fiancé for a long moment and then said, "You don't know what I'm talking about, do you?"

He grinned sheepishly at her. "Not a clue. What did I do?"

Ignoring the fact that he'd pretty much just admitted to whatever she was going to say, Angela sighed and dropped into a chair. "You told Booth that raising the living together issue with Brennan was a good idea."

"Yeah, and?"

"And now they're arguing over whose place is better, and what gets moved, and I'm the one who gets stuck in the middle! Never mind that I've never been to Booth's apartment, and he has typical guy taste in furniture."

"Hey!" Hodgins frowned at her. "Not all guys have bad taste."

"Hon, you're richer than God and you still have a La-z-boy and a giant flat screen TV, though at least you watch the science channel and not football. All guys have bad taste."

"I'll concede that point, but at least it's a step forward, right?"

She shrugged. "I suppose, as long as they don't kill each other first."

"There's that." He pulled off his latex gloves with a snap and threw them away. "Come on, I'll buy you lunch." As they wandered down off the platform, he asked, "You do realize that you use my recliner much more than I do, don't you?"

A/N: Next word is vertigo.


	22. V

Disclaimer: See first chapter.

A/N: You guys are all great. Honestly. And has anyone read the Tale of Genji? It reads like a cross between a bad romance novel, the Jerry Springer show, and an episode of Law and Order SVU, just... incredibly densely packed. Sorry, I'm reading it for class and it's disturbing.

Here's Vertigo, which is set sort of before Almost. For those of you who don't know, vertigo as I'm using it means a dizziness you get when you look down from a high point, often a side effect of a fear of heights.

Oh, and I was just rereading some of my past stories. They're really, really cheesy. So! Special not-so-one-time-offer! If you want a chance to help me rework an older story to make it more... good, and less bad, PM me with the story name! Cause some of them really, really need help, and since I wrote them in the first place I need someone else to help me with that...

**Vertigo**

Kissing Booth made her dizzy.

Honest to goodness, lightheaded, spinning in circles dizzy.

It was like standing at the top of a huge cliff and looking over the edge and _knowing_ you just had to lean over to free-fall...

And something about that kiss made her want to jump, to fling herself off the side and enjoy the ride down, because it never had to end.

And then, of course, the rational part of her brain took over and reminded her that at the bottom of every cliff was solid bedrock and the landing could quite easily kill her.

Of course, that didn't stop her from wanting to peek over again, just one more time.

Just thinking of the kiss brought back that feeling of exhilarated terror.

It was all well and good to kiss a man who could make you fly with the simplest brush of lips, but what happened when he let go? What happened when the fall came, and you'd given up your safety net and had to spiral to the ground, broken and alone?

And then she berated herself for her melodramatic thoughts, and tried to force herself to focus on work again.

It didn't work.

In her office, there was the sensory memory of the kiss.

On the platform, she could almost feel him leaning over her shoulder, breathing softly on her neck as he teased her about her tendency to use "squinty" language.

For a woman as in control of her emotions as Brennan usually was, she found this distraction highly uncomfortable, and tried her best to pretend it didn't affect her.

But there was still that little tiny voice inside of her that whispered "jump." And when she reminded herself that gravity always won out in the end, the voice, which sounded more like Booth every day, simply said,

"Screw gravity. Just jump."

A/N: Next word is window.


	23. W

Disclaimer: See first chapter.

A/N: Sorry it took so darn long to get this up. I just had massive writer's block, and then I was trying to survive the last few weeks of school, then I was decompressing. BUT! I am back now! A bit of a late Christmas-themed fluff for you. Oh. And since I can't remember what was going on in the show around Thanksgiving... go with me on this.

**Window**

The first Christmas which they spent together as a couple nearly overwhelmed her.

She didn't have much of an experience with family Christmases. She had completely negative associations with them, as a matter of fact, considering when her parents had disappeared. Since then, she'd spent exactly one Christmas with anyone actually related to her, and usually managed to be out of the country for the holiday.

Booth had Parker for Christmas Eve, so she was surprised when he called her at noon and demanded to know where the heck she was (she could tell that Parker had already arrived by the audible pause before the toned-down expletive). When he told her to come over and hinted that if she brought a change of clothes there'd be no need for her to leave for a while, she was even more surprised. She'd assumed he'd want the time alone with his son.

She set down the phone and was horrified to feel tears welling up in her eyes. She _never_ cried.

The idea of an actual Christmas, someone who wanted to spend the holiday with her because they cared about her as more than just a friend, scared her to death. So, to be quite honest, did spending time with Parker. She always felt slightly awkward around him because she didn't know how to talk to children. No matter how many times Booth explained that Parker found everything that "Dr. Bones" said fascinating, even when he didn't understand it, she didn't quite believe him.

And Booth. How exactly was this going to work? They'd been together for nearly a year, but they'd yet to cross the big holiday hurdle (as Angela called it), since they'd done a team Thanksgiving dinner. She wasn't sure she knew what to expect, what to say or do or think. She'd bought him a present, even though she still held to the idea that Christmas was an overly commercialized holiday. She was even willing to pretend to believe in Santa for Parker's sake, if need be (which she justified to herself by arguing that Santa Claus is more the spirit of the season than an actual person).

As she debated what kinds of clothes she was supposed to wear for an evening with her partner and his son and what else she was supposed to bring, she kept thinking about the last time she'd seen them on Christmas, when she'd looked out the window of a prison trailer she'd kissed Booth to get and saw them lighting up the tree she hadn't been able to get.

She realized that for the first time since before her childhood fell apart, she wasn't going to have to be looking through the window at anything. Everything she wanted would be right there with her, which frankly scared her more than anything else.

And then logical Temperance Brennan disappeared, Bones took her place, and she decided Booth was completely worth it.

To hell with being scared.

A/N: Next word is xenobiology.


	24. X

Disclaimer: See first chapter.

A/N: See? Not so long a wait. However, I just discovered that three of my classes for this semester are massively reading intensive, so I'll try to get the last few chapters out as quickly as possible, but it might have to be around the middle of February. Also, xenobiology does mean what I define it as in the story, and the thing about NASA is true, as far as wikipedia knows. I got the idea about the rocks from a cartoon. And in my perfect universe of BB togetherness, Angela and Hodgins are still together. Am I the only one who thought the writers just didn't want to lose the Angela dating drama by marrying her off?

**Xenobiology**

"There is, in fact, a possibility that moon rocks are, in fact, some form of extraterrestrial life."

Booth stared at Brennan in shock. "Aliens, Bones? Are you serious?"

"Yes. We have a tendency to assume that all life forms would be recognizable as such, but when it comes down to it, we only have the knowledge to identify carbon-based life forms. We have no way of even conceiving of what a being based on another element would look or act like. That's why NASA stopped using the word xenobiology and moved to astrobiology."

He frowned. "Pretending like I know what those mean, what's the difference?"

"Xenobiology is the study of extraterrestrial life forms, water- and non-water-based. Astrobiology is the study of alien, water-based organisms. In fact, the term xenobiology is defunct in all but science fiction, nowadays." She glanced down at him, lying sideways across her couch with his head in her lap. "Why the sudden interest, anyway?"

"I though Hodgins was pulling my leg." He gave a half shrug. "Figured you'd know."

"I see." Brennan smiled. "And why did the subject come up in the first place?"

"Oh, I mentioned that I thought it would be cool to meet an alien, and he went off on one of his conspiracy rants about how the government had already made contact and was covering it up. Surprisingly, Roswell wasn't high on his list. Turns out, he's all for these moon rocks being alive."

She just shook her head and ran a hand through his hair. That was the last time she let him watch the Discovery Channel with her, if he was going to bring up everything he saw around Hodgins. The bug expert was already hard enough to get to shut up sometimes. She imagined she was going to get an earful from Angela the next day about what her partner had started.

She had to admit, though... it was rather satisfying to be on the receiving end of the "I don't know what that means."

A/N: Next word is young.


	25. Y Part 1

Disclaimer: See first chapter.

A/N: Okay! So you people get a bonus to make up for my incredible lateness! Because I can't decide whether I think Gordon was talking about, for several reasons. That scene in Sweets office could go either way. Many people on hulu seemed to think he meant Brennan, because of the title change. And I agree, looking at it, that it could mean Brennan is the one fighting her feelings every day. And I think she's logical enough to know she's got a thing for him and fight it. Also, she pushes him to admit his problems and talk about the emotions he would rather pretend he doesn't have, like those relating to the war or his childhood. So this is version one, where Bones is the one fighting her feelings. And then you'll get version two, where it's Booth.

**Youth, Pt. 1**

The car ride back to Booth's place was slightly awkward. There was silence. Lots and lots of silence.

She spent the first five minutes mulling over the obvious confusion and her apparently classic lack of understanding of real meaning. Scars on the back was apparently not even metaphorical. It was apparently code for "Go get Sweets and bring him back for dinner."

And so she'd shared something she'd never told anyone, something she'd been keeping a secret since it had happened, told it to Sweets... and Booth. And then she'd forced Booth to share his secret. She'd prodded him, used the eyes... yes, she _did_ know what effect she could have on someone if she tried. She didn't use it often, because it was an emotional look and she wasn't often so lost in those emotions that she could conjure it up, but...

The rest of the ride she spend contemplating one incredibly scary fact: she very nearly never got to meet Booth. Without his grandfather, he said he might have killed himself, and that was possibly the most frightening thing she'd ever heard. She wasn't used to being this afraid of a possibility that no longer even applied.

She consoled herself with the thought that Booth was Catholic, and suicide was so far beyond a sin there was no chance he would ever consider it now. But the idea that he could have died before she met him, the idea that she could have lost him because he felt there was no reason for him to stay alive...

She'd figured out a long time ago that she was very attracted to Booth. It was a logical reaction: he was attractive, he was a good father, a soldier who'd proved his ability to provide, to protect. Beyond that, he was kind, he had the emotional and people skills she lacked, and on a purely objective level she was sure he was a good lover.

The fact that he'd revealed something so personal to Sweets, who he thought of as a kind of immature, unrealistic kid brother, just because she asked him to, and then to turn around and instantly ask if she was alright? There was this curious melting feeling in the general vicinity of her heart, which made no sense whatsoever because the heart was NOT the center of emotion and it was completely illogical.

But if there was one thing Booth was making her realize, just because something was illogical didn't mean it couldn't affect someone. And sometimes the illogical things actually made life amazing in ways none of her science could explain.

A/N: Next chapter is Young, Pt. 2.


	26. Y Part 2

Disclaimer: See first chapter.

A/N: Sorry for the long delay. School was kicking my butt and I had two classes with finals _and_ final papers. But I'm done now, and actually sitting on the airplane on my way home. Did I mention I got a new laptop that actually works so I can now use it as a portable computer instead of being restricted to somewhere where I could ice it down (the fan broke and the heat fried the hard drive)? It's very nice. And very energy efficient when you don't use the internet.

So! My reasoning for the other side of the argument, that it's Booth who knows about his feelings and fights them every day. Aside from the finale, I have a few pieces of evidence. Generally, when something is the heart of the matter to you, you aren't that thing. Therefore, saying Bones is the heart of the matter is saying it's Booth. Also, he's the emotional one. Brennan is logical to the point of almost not believing in love (like that conversation where she tells Booth she wants to be able to believe in forever and relationships like everyone else), so she's capable of writing her attraction off as merely physical, based on the fact that he meets the criteria for a goo mate, anthropologically speaking. I can't see Booth sharing that information with Sweets without some serious feelings for Brennan, and he's in touch with his emotions enough to know it. Come on, he reveals this massive secret that is obviously a source of personal pain and probably some guilt (Catholic, remember?), and then turns around and asks if SHE'S okay? So here you go. Car ride from Booth's point of view, with him knowing he loves Bones.

**Youth, Part 2**

There was nothing but silence on the car ride back to his apartment. Even Sweets didn't have anything to say. Of all the things that had been revealed that evening, Brennan's was likely the worst. They all had their demons, but he'd taken the liberty of checking out Sweets when he started working with them, and he knew he'd been adopted at a relatively young age. His father had been abusive, but he hadn't known anything else and he'd had his grandfather. Brennan, though...

She'd grown up in a loving family, with parents who were, okay, criminals, but ones who had gotten out of the life. She'd had a brother who protected her and always made sure she knew he was there. And then, in a brief period of time, she'd lost it all. Her father, her mother, her brother... she'd gone into foster homes, where he'd always thought she'd been unhappy but generally safe. Now? Now he wanted to hunt down every one of her foster parents, find out which one had locked her in that trunk, and kill them. Slowly. Painfully. Maybe put them in the trunk of that car.

They'd taught her that mistakes were unforgivable. She had such a well-developed sense of right and wrong, and being told that wrong became right if you warned people it was happening would have confused her young mind. No wonder she pushed herself so hard, held herself to such a high standard. There was so much he couldn't take away about her life, so much he couldn't fix for her because it was indelibly etched in her memory, but he could definitely take care of her now.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this protective. He knew on some level he should be worried, because violence outside of fighting for his country in one way or another was something he avoided, because he knew too well what a man with his strength and training could do to another person who couldn't defend themselves. This should scare him, because he should be worried he was turning into his father.

He spent the first fifteen minutes plotting the death of her foster parents and the next ten trying to figure out why he felt free to do so without worrying he'd actually go and do anything.

When the answer came, it was so simple he was surprised he'd taken so long to realize it.

He wasn't going to find the horrible people who'd abused Brennan because she didn't want him to, didn't want him to hurt anyone if he could help it. Despite the things she'd seen, despite being held prisoner by some warlord in South America and being locked in the trunk of a car for two days and losing her parents and being kidnapped by the Gravedigger and finding out her father was a murderer and risking prison to keep him out of it and losing Zach to Gormagon and all bodies she saw and all the horrific things people did to each other, she still had a heart, buried in there somewhere where she hid it for her own protection. She believed he was a good man, so he could be one.

He glanced over at her face, set in her normal stoic mask but with a hint of tear tracks on her cheeks, and realized something important.

There was nothing he wouldn't do for this woman.

But as she turned her head to look at him and he saw that she was still on the verge of tears, he decided that was best saved for another day.

He had time.

A/N: After the second to last episode of the season, I couldn't resist the last line. Next word is zed.


	27. Z

Disclaimer: See first chapter

A/N: HOW LONG HAS IT BEEN? I have written NOTHING in the last year. Seriously. Three one-shots and half of this story. This is ridiculous. Must get back to it! To that end, I am finishing the story, and then I will be starting at least one more, if not two. Normally, I try for one long story at a time, but I wanna write for both Criminal Minds and Castle, both completely new fandoms for me. Anybody have a preference? Or suggestions for words? Review or PM me, please!

So, here's the final chapter of this nearly two year story. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. I confess, when writing this chapter, only two things popped into my head as ways to use zed, and both were massively geeky references: Chief Zed and Zed-P-M. *Sigh* I am such a hopeless case. So instead I used it to mean "the end." Never having been in the situation I describe (can't tell you or it'll spoil it), cut me some slack on the details and procedure.

Any lurkers out there want to review the last chapter? Would be much appreciated...

**Zed**

This was it.

The end.

He couldn't take this anymore.

Too much pressure, too much uncertainty, too much helplessness.

There was no way he was going to survive this.

"Booth? Sweetie?" Angela came hurrying down the hospital corridor towards him, the nice dress she'd donned for her date looking almost comically out of place in the dingy hallway. "How is she?"

"They kicked me out." He returned her hug automatically. "Said I was in their way."

"It's alright, Sweetie." She toed off her high heels and draped her coat over the back of a chair. "I'm sure someone will be out to talk to you soon."

"I should be in there."

"Well, yes, okay, but it'll be over soon, right?"

"I guess." He sank down onto a bench, his suit rumpled and his hair standing on end. "I hope so. I can't take much more of this."

"This?"

"This helplessness. This waiting. This not knowing. THIS!" The last word came out as a shout.

Angela sat next to him and put a comforting hand on his arm. "It'll be over soon. Just keep hold of that. And..."

"Mr. Booth?" It was a nurse, in cheerful pink scrubs with stethoscopes on them. "You can come back now." She gestured at the doorway behind her with a small smile. "You won't be in the way anymore."

"Thank you." Angela took it upon herself to acknowledge the nurse, since Booth had already pushed past into the hospital room.

When she'd collected her coat and shoes, to give the two of them some time, Angela peeked her head around the doorframe and promptly squealed and awww-ed silently to herself.

Brennan was lying on the bed, propped up and looking tired but happy, with Booth stretched out next to her, awkwardly perched on the edge of the mattress. Between them was a tiny bundle wrapped in a blanket with a little pink cap. If she listened, Angela could catch the conversation the new parents were having in whispers over their daughter's head.

"Why'd you send me out, Bones?"

"Booth, it seemed to be hurting you more than it was hurting me. You were stressing everyone out and getting in the way."

"But Bones, I wanted to be there. For you. With you."

"I know, Seeley." She reached out a hand to touch his cheek, then rested it carefully on their daughter's chest. "I know. But there was no reason for you to suffer through it too, and I couldn't focus when I was worried about you. You do that to me." She smiled. "I can't even work when I'm worried about you. Ask Angela."

"I was wrong, you know."

"About what?"

He leaned over to kiss her, and Angela could hear Hodgins and Cam coming down the hall. As she slipped out to meet them and head them off, she caught Booth's answer.

"I thought this was the end. But it's just beginning, isn't it?"

A/N: OK, it's over. Hope that wasn't TOO cheesy or sickeningly sweet. Please review!


End file.
